Storytime Tapestry Newsletter

The newsletter devoted to spreading love and cultural awareness around the world.

March 12, 2007

Today’s Announcements

Happy 30^th Wedding Anniversary to Roy and Kay Seefeldt: birdnest@megalink.net

Happy Birthday, Virginia Foley:  virginiafoley@aol.com

Today we are welcoming another new writer for Storytime Tapestry.  Harley Sutton becomes writer #414.  Please send him an email and welcome him in the Storytime Time tradition: lsutton@hot.rr.com

Donations are needed to help with the operating expenses of running the newsletter and to keep Storytime Tapestry the quality newsletter you are so accustomed to.   

Please note that Storytime Tapestry is a free newsletter to members and there will never be a cost for the newsletter.  Donations are purely voluntary and no member should ever feel guilty for not making a donation at this time.

Today’s Stories

~**~**~

Precious to the Rescue

Debra Glidewell

Years ago living in rural Texas I kept a small goat herd that afforded me milk and endless entertainment. One cold winter night as I was arriving home from work I was met by Precious my part-boer favorite. She immediately began bleating and was obviously trying to persuade me to follow her into the woods. I wanted to change out of my hospital scrubs before wading after her through the brush, so when I did not immediately follow she kept running in front to stop me. Precious even climbed the steps of the house when I rushed in and continued her urgent bleating while I grabbed a flashlight and pre-prepared delivery supplies. 

This scenerio was not a new event. The goats had become accustomed to watching me aid the delivery of their herd members, as well as the horses and cows and yes, even pigs on the property. Frequently with impending delivery either the expectant or a close herd member would seek me out for assistance. This was the case that windy, sleeting night. Darcy, Precious's daughter was struggling to give birth for the first time under a mesquite tree.

With only a small amount of assistance, repositioning the kid so that both front hooves protruded, a healthy but small doe was launched into the world. I was helping dry the kid when Darcy began serious contractions anew. This time she delivered a matching buck without further help. It was a beautiful moment and other herd members arrived one by one to welcome the newborns. It made for an unusual nativity scene I am sure.

The youngsters had picked a particularly cold night to make their debut, so I gathered them up and carried them toward a storage shed where Darcy and her kids could stay dry and warm and coyote protected until the weather abated.  I quickly learned that first time mom Darcy needed a little help to keep her babies scent and continue following me. Success came when I carried two wiggling, squalling boer kids about four inches from the ground all the way from the woods to the outbuilding. I'm sure if anyone witnessed that scene they would have thought I looked like a thieving hunchback.

I sat for an hour in the cold shed watching the family bonding. New life is always a miracle.

Debra Glidewell

dcglidewell@aol.com

~**~**~

Cheetos by any other name

Jeannie Nelson

We went out for sandwiches last night after a bit of a rough day, and in my daugher's Kid Pack was a small package of puffed Cheetos.

"I despise Cheetos" she told us, "They are just so fake tasting and messy to eat."

At times like these, I wonder if my daughter was switched at birth because I loved cheetos as a kid. I loved the taste, the crunch, and the way they stained your fingers a sickening shade of flourescent orange. About the only thing I didn't like was the name which I thought was a rather creepy combination of the words Cheese and Toes.

My European mother who also didn't like the visualization of the Cheese Toes name decided they should be called "Yong Yongs" which sounded a bit like the sound made when chewing the silly things. She also thought that Hostess "Ho Hos" was entirely too coarse of a word for us children and renamed them "Roundies." Mom didn't like a lot of American trade names, come to think of it, and managed to find hidden vulgarities in even the most innocuous of them. Oscar Meyer's "wieners" became "links," toilet paper became "papier" and with a nod to her anti-Catholic upbringing, even St. Joseph's aspirin received a rechristening as "JoJos."

As I watched my daughter not eating her cheetos in the sandwich shop, I had to chuckle at the lengths my mother used to protect us from of words with hidden meanings and double entendres, and recalled the day Mom introduced us to a visiting cousin, not realizing that his name was the All Time Most Vilest, Vulgar Word of all times. "Kids," she said, "I'd like you to meet my cousin Fucco." 

My sister and I gasped and sputtered, choked and coughed at this horrible name which rhymed with Buck-o while Mom and her cousin looked at us with raised eyebrows.

"Pleased ta meetcha" we managed to finally say.

"What's so funny?" asked Mom.

"Nothing" we replied, while holding back peals of laughter that were beginning to bubble up to the surface.

I would like to say we managed to contain ourselves, but I'm afraid we didn't do a good job. The name was simply too awful for words and Mom finally excused us from the parlour with a swat on the rump and whispered threat.

As I began to laugh out loud in the sandwich shop, my daughter gave me one of those "Mom!" looks and hissed, "You are embarrassing me. What on earth are you laughing at?"

"Nothing," I smiled. "But why don't you pass me the Yong Yongs so I can have them for later."

 Jeannie Nelson
claajke@msn.com

Poetry Corner

~**~**~

Best Of Intentions

Harley Sutton
            
            Did I send you a rose on your birthday?
            Did it slip my mind again, I fear?
            Did I send you a card at Christmas?
            'Cause I sure missed you, my dear.

Did I send you a rose on your birthday?
            I almost always did so before.
            Did I drink to you a toast on New Year's?
            I meant to do this, and so much more.

Did I send you a rose on your birthday?
            Did I call you on the Fourth of July?
            You know my intentions were to do so,
            If I forgot, please, I beg you, don't cry.

But about that rose on your birthday,
            Please say I didn't forget it again.
            And surely I sent you a valentine,
            Because you're my steady girlfriend.

What about when Easter time came?
            Surely I sent you a card that day.
            And didn't I call you at Thanksgiving?
            If not, I just don't know what to say.

I think of you often, please believe me,
            Intending to regale you in rhyme.
            I promise, next year on your birthday
            I will devote to you all of my time.

Harley Sutton

lsutton@hot.rr.com

~**~**~

Remember Me

Dianna Doles Petry

When my weary soul,
Takes flight with the wind,
Don't cry for me,
You'll see me again.

When my time has come,
To leave my cares behind,
I'll still live within your heart,
I hope peace is yours to find.

Life is not about a ritual,
Or tears cried in sympathy,
Don't spend your precious moments,
Grieving endlessly for me.

When I have found my new wings,
To soar because I'm free,
I'll have no worries or pain,
Please don't worry about me.

Remember all the laughter,
The smile you put on my face,
We'll meet again in heaven,
Share another warm embrace.

When this life I chose to live,
Has finally ended here for me,
Know that I did the best I could,
To take care of my family.

When my time has come,
For you to bid one last Good-bye,
I'll be living in your heart and thoughts,
My love for you will never die.

Love,
©Dianna Doles Petry

dianna59@suddenlink.net
January 26th, 2007

http://diannapetry.tripod.com
http://members.tripod.com/~poemsbydianna/PoetryofLife.html
www.womenwithauniquesoul.com
www.myspace.com/diannawv

Dianna Doles Petry is an author from Fayette County, West Virginia. She has self-published a collection of short stories from her life and her poetry is becoming very well known. She has been published in "Gambit," a literary magazine produced by West Virginia University. WynterBlue Thunder Publications, based in Ontario, Canada, has also published Ms. Petry's work. Dianna is a Senior Writer for Storytime Tapestry, an online Ezine with a staff of writers from many different areas of the world. Ms. Petry is proud of her membership with the West Virginia Poetry Society and also the West Virginia Roundtable of Writers.

~**~**~

Path to God, Worn by Love

Sandra Lewis Pringle

I stepped into a garden,

which was filled with beauty rare;

In it, I saw a glimpse of Heaven,

as I was standing there.

"Lord!", I called in earnest,

"Tell me true!"

"How do I reach that land,

so that I might walk by You?"

"Well," He said, in tenderness,

"There are several things one must do."

And then, He began to ponder and meditate,

as He began to mention a few.

"Do you recall that thirsty woman,

who needed only a drink?

And do you recall the sunset,

needing to be shared,

with was filled with hues of gold and pink?"

"And, do you recall those long hours,

in which you labored freely for a friend,

knowing that if you hadn't,

they might not be able to visit again?"

"And do you recall the walk,

which required both Hope and Faith?

And how, once, that many prayers were spoken,

you still had to wait?"

"And do you recall the times,

when often discouraged yourself,

you reached out your hand,

to comfort someone else?"

"These are only a few of the things,

that, towards Heaven, a person can trod;

But the path is always worn by Love,

which leads a child to God!"

© Sandra Lewis Pringle

SLPENT1@aol.com

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